I can Imagine - the 38th Hunger Games
by Umhahahowaboutno
Summary: Alexia Smith is a deaf 15 year old girl, who lives on the streets of District 7. When she is reaped into the 38th Hunger Games, the Capitol guarantee her death. But then Alexia meets Iris and Daniel, twins from District 8 with a deaf little sister, and they make a pact to protect her.
1. Chapter 1

All around me, people are talking. I can't hear them, but I know they're making sound. Women bustle around the town square, weaving in and out of stalls, yelling something at a friend every so often. Children laugh and play, sometimes grabbing an old apple from a stall owner. The people behind the stalls cry out offers and wave around food and clothes. I can't hear them, but I know. Their mouths move, and their facial expressions change. I remember when I was with Aunt Willow and Uncle Daniel, whenever they would have got mad at me – which was often, their expressions changed. Their tall, narrow faces turned bright red, the veins popping out of Willow's face. Whenever she yelled, she spat in my face. I often tried explaining to them that I can't hear them by helplessly using sign language, but they'd look disgusted at me. They don't seem to remember that I can't help being deaf.

I slowly get up, looking at everything around me. The Reaping is tomorrow, so the stall-owners in the market are trying to frantically sell everything. The market will be closed down for the Games. Sometimes, when they show the Hunger Games in the Town Square, I watch. I may be deaf but I'm not stupid. I know what happens. There was a boy in my class when I was with Aunt and Uncle, he knew sign language. Jonathon was his name. He was my only true friend. Apart from my Mother, but she died when I was four. An illness, Jonathon had told me. I don't know how he found out, but word seems to spread fast in District Seven. Jonathon told me about the games, about how gruesome and cruel it is. How his older sister died in them.

I never see Jonathon anymore. When Aunt and Uncle divorced, they didn't want me. It was bad enough having to look after me when they were together, but now they wanted new lives. Who'd want a young deaf girl tagging around as well, right? Uncle Daniel took me in, reluctantly. He had a new girlfriend, who was pregnant with his first child – a boy. When he was born, his mother died in childbirth. This led Uncle Daniel to abuse me. He left the baby – I never knew his name - to starve. I don't know what happened to either of them, because I ran away when I was thirteen. I didn't go to school, but still attended the Reapings. If I didn't, they'd come looking for me, and then put me in the Community Home once they realize I was homeless.

I scrunch up my sleeping bag and stuff it in my tatty, cloth rucksack. All that is in there is a knife I found and the sleeping bag. I brush the gravel off my clothes and check quickly behind me. I sleep in the middle of the alleyway, so I have a good view of the Town Square. Behind me though, where it's damper and the air is thicker, sleep the tougher and older people. Some are middle-aged; some are in their early twenties. I turned fifteen sometime a few months ago. I know I shouldn't be afraid of them; there were a few days where I couldn't find any food. They came over and shared their bread and apples with me. They tried to start conversation, but I had to awkwardly use hand-actions to show them I was deaf. Hardly anyone knows sign-language.

I slip through the Town Square, sticking to the edge. I'd be less noticeable there. A few weeks back, I found a gap in the fence of the Mayor's house, just big enough for a hand to fit through. He grows all kinds of fruit and vegetables, carrots and tomatoes mostly. I kick a few stones as I walk, and pretend to hear the birds sing. I don't know what they sound like, but I imagined it like sweet, high and long notes. I know about birds from school, and how to identify fruit and vegetables. Jonathon sat next to me, so he translated it all. I squat down next to the fence, checking that nobody sees me. The heat clings to my back, and crawls up my neck. It's now I curse having short hair. I grab a few carrots and a handful of raspberries before running away. I know I could sell them, but I wouldn't know what to do. Go awkwardly up to them and motion for money? No. As I walk back to the alleyway, I notice something. Uncle Daniel's house. I gulp, my palms sweating suddenly. Out on the lawn, is a young boy, no more than four or five. He has bruises all over his pale face, and cuts on his lips. I turn away and run. I did not want to know who that boy was.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey!

Um….

Maddy here…. So I completely and utterly forgot all about this, and I am so, so so sorry. I just thought I'd let you know that I am trying to get a chapter up by tonight!

-Maddy x


	3. Chapter 3

The Morning sun creeps up the orange-pink sky, shining lazily on the people of District Seven. Perching uncomfortably on a wooden fence surrounding the Reaping Area, I sigh. I have been sat here for ages, and now my legs are numb and cold, and I couldn't even feel my fingers. I guess I shouldn't have bathed in the lake in the forest. It's quite easy getting there, actually. Walk towards the hut, as if you're signing in for work as a lumberjack, and then take a right, go forwards a bit and hey, you're there. Quite often I thought to myself about moving my sleeping bag down here, but then I remember the dangers that lurk in the nearby trees.

Sometimes when I'm there, I catch some rabbits. That's always good, because my diet mainly consists of the Mayor's vegetables, old bread from the baker's bin and scraps that I can find. So the rare times I do have meat, I savour it. Every last bite. This morning, after I washed, I caught a rabbit. I cleaned my clothes as it cooked, and dried myself off. My clothes are still damp now, but there's not a lot I can do about that.

As a steady trickle of anxious faces fall into the Town Square, I bite my lip nervously. I always feel like this, every year. I always feel under-dressed and dirty, despite making sure I wash before. The girls are wearing long, floaty skirts or dresses, short skirts are despised of in my District. Boys normally wear their formal trousers and shirts, their hair styled neatly by their Mothers. Parents cling onto the hands of twelve year olds, and the older ones trudge along.

I can tell the atmosphere is different from yesterday. Yesterday, pretty much everyone was happy. Things on sale at the market were going really cheap – some things even free – so everyone was fed. It was the perfect weather yesterday, too. Yes, today might have sunshine, but yesterday was very warm, yet with a breeze. Plus, school finished for the people who attended.

Today thought, it is tense. People only give curt nods to those who pass, and most just remain silent. Parents clutch their children's hands tightly, a nervous look on their faces. Yet it's children between twelve and eighteen who look the most restless. Today, their name is in a glass bowl. If they are twelve, only once. If they are thirteen, two times. Fourteen, three times, and so on. Those who are poor and have taken tessare, have their names entered more than once. I have refused to take tessare; I do not need my name in there more than it needs to be.

Eventually, I am forced off the fence by some Peacekeepers, and nudged to line up by the table. Behind the table are two Peacekeepers, both in crisp white uniform. I shudder. I've always dreaded this part. As I come to the front of the line, a Peacekeeper yanks my hand and presses a needle into it before I have time to react. The blood drips onto a piece of paper beneath my name, and the Peacekeeper scans it with some sort of device. The screen briefly flashes up with my name. Alexia Woods.

I plod slowly towards the fifteen year-old girl section, sucking in a breath. I can already feel the glances threw at my way. Biting my lip nervously, I stand near the edge. I know I have no reason to be worried, my name is only in there four times out of thousands. I guess its something everyone gets. Well, I hope.

A few minutes later, once everyone is in their place, a woman walks out into the stage. She's a new escort; our previous escort did _not _look like her. A gasp ripples through the District. Because this new woman is, well, beautiful. Not a fake, full of weird make-up and plastic surgery, oh no. She is pure beauty. Her face is round and delicate, her nose small and thick. She has full lips, painted a dark, crimson red. Her eyes are wide and protected by a long layer of coal-black eyelashes. She obviously has contacts, dark, flame orange. Her eyeliner is dark, almost like ash. Her black hair is in a fishtail plait over her shoulder, tied with a dark red bow. The rest of her outfit is fairly simple, black leggings and a red shirt, revealing one shoulder. And on that shoulder is a tattoo of fire.

She opens her mouth to speak, but of course I can't hear her. But, by the power of lip-reading, I can pick out that her name is Flame Blackwell. Then, the video is played. Footage of war, the Dark Days. Where the thirteen Districts rebelled, and so the Capitol destroyed the thirteenth one. To make sure nobody rebelled again, they set up the Hunger Games. A yearly game show broadcasted all over Panem, where twenty-four tributes, one boy and one girl between the ages of 12 and 18, from each District, are sent to fight to the death. But first they have a week full of training and an interview and of course the Opening Ceremony. All in the comfort of the capital.

Flame walks over to the male glass bowl, something that escorts don't usually do. Everyone sucks in a breath, and a hush falls throughout the Square. Walking back to the microphone, Flame slowly unfolds the slip of paper. She frowns at the slip and then a look of pure anger washes over her. She reads out the name, her eyes casting to the ground. Everyone looks fuming now. A little boy from the twelve year old section, stunned, walks shakily out of his section. He has floppy blonde hair, and bright green eyes. A woman runs out from the watching place, probably shrieking. Peacekeepers hold her back, but there's no need. She collapses to the ground, still crying.

And then, a boy steps out of the seventeen year old section. He has a strong resemblance to the young boy, and my heart sinks as I realise it's his older brother. Of course, he is more muscular and broad, but he has the same floppy blonde hair and emerald green eyes. He yells something, and everyone whips around. I'm guessing a volunteer. He marches up to his brother and picks him up, taking him to his Mother. Then he continues to stride up to the stage, where he shakes hands with Flame. He comes off as strong and hard, but the fear in his eyes is undeniable.

Flame then walks over to the girl bowl, and picks a slip. Moving back to the centre of the stage, she opens her mouth to call the name.

And, again, through the power of lip-reading, I can see my name linger on her lips.

I feel like someone is squeezing me too tight, all the oxygen has gone out of my lungs. _Are you sure? _A small voice in my head asks, but by the way people turn to stare at me, I know that she just called my name.

She just called Alexia Woods.

Shaking, I tread over the rope and into the path. I scan the crowds, hoping for someone, _anyone, _to realize I'm deaf and take my place. But nobody knows. Except Jonathon, and God knows where he is. Still stunned, I walk slowly up to the stage, and turn to Flame. She says something to me, and smiles, waiting for a response. I open my mouth and shut it again, looking like a fish. Something in the crowd catches Flame's attention, so she turns to them. I follow her gaze and end up seeing Jonathon for the first time in a while. Short and thin, with a mop of curly brown hair and dark blue eyes. He looks sadly at me, obviously finished what he's said. Flame turns back to me, shocked. But I ignore her and continue to stare at Jonathon. What had he said?

'Hi…' he signs, smiling slightly.

"Hi." I sign back, not returning the smile.

"The whole of Panem knows you're deaf, Alexia." he signs, bowing his head.

"Oh well." I sign back, and he looks up at me.

Flame taps me on the shoulder to get my attention. She asks Jonathon something, and he signs something at her. She then turns back to me and tries to repeat what he had signed to her. It was clumsy and pathetic, but I could just pick out 'sorry', 'shake' and 'hand.' I take her hand and she shakes it, and then turns back to District 7. She yells something and raises mine and the other boy's hands in the air, and the whole of the District clap.

Well, District 7 has _exciting _tributes this year.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, its Maddy! So I know I haven't done A/Ns in my chapters, and I thought I'd start doing that XD Now, righting as a deaf person is really hard, because you've got to remember that they can't hear and arghh. Anyway, remember to comment and favourite, and I hope you enjoy! :3**

**-Maddy x**

I have decided that I do not like small spaces.

This room is small. Very small.

The worn walls are green, but the wallpaper is peeling off. The small sofa I am sat on is a faded dark green colour, with matching dirty cushions. The carpet is threadbare and guess what…green. Pictures of District 7's past Victors hang on the wall in green frames. Mellisa Fields, Aiden Finch, Rose Haskell and Damien Baker. None look happy, all of them just….tired.

It was a few minutes before Jonathon arrived. I was surprised; I assumed that nobody would visit. I got up, smiling sadly at him. He shocked me by wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight. After he let go, I saw that tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"Alexia…" he signed, his eyes full of fear and sadness.

"I know, I know. I have no hope." I sign back, my lips purse together. Jonathon frowned.

"You have just as good as chance as anyone else!" he protested.

"Jonathon, I'm deaf. I wouldn't be able to hear someone if they sneak up on me!"

"You've got to try, Lexi. For me."

Then a Peacekeeper comes and says something at Jonathon. Suddenly, panic spreads across his face. He opens my hand and puts something cold in it, and then curls my fingers around it. The Peacekeeper says something again.

"See you soon, Alexia." Jonathan signs, kissing me quickly on the forehead. It wasn't anything special, just a good luck kiss. Then he turns around and briskly walks out. I sigh and sink back onto the sofa. I might as well step off my metal plate before the sixty seconds are up. I mean, how would I survive? I won't know if I'm treading quietly, so I might scare off rabbits….or draw tributes closer.

I feel the tears roll down my cheek, and splash into my lap. I bow my head and continue to let the tears fall. I stay like that for a few minutes. I'm completely unaware of the fact that a Peacekeeper is in front of me, until he taps my shoulder. I follow him out of the room, keeping my head high. I will not cry again. I may be deaf, but I am not weak. The careers will not think of me as some weak girl from 7.

Oh no, they won't. Because I am going to win.

**Ok so yeah XD. Sorry its so short and sucky, its more of a filler chapter. Anyway, again, remember to comment and favourite, and yeah! I will update soon.**

**-Maddy x**


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